


Training Sessions

by fuzipenguin



Series: How To Train Your Twins [1]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, M/M, Open Relationships, Other, Twincest, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 08:05:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5777839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bluestreak, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker enter into an interfacing relationship in which BDSM features heavily. Things don't always go as expected</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Survey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins get a little more than they bargained for with Bluestreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for dracoqueen22's tumblr prompt for a dom!Bluestreak with the twins

~~

 

     Sideswipe smirked.  

 

     Sunstreaker glared.  

 

     They faced him on their knees, hands lashed behind their backs, ankles loosely cuffed. They were supposed to be holding completely still, gazes directed at the floor, but that command had been broken almost immediately by Sideswipe’s fidgeting. A minute later, Sunstreaker had sighed impatiently and he had looked up, a clear challenge in his optics.  

 

     Bluestreak licked his lips, fingering the crop he held across his lap. They knew pain, understood it better than most. He’d have to be inventive. 

 

     But, oh… breaking them would be so delicious and worth every minute of his time.

 

~ End


	2. Assessment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bluestreak thinks back to his first session with the twins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for dracoqueen22's tumblr prompt for a continuation of my original drabble of dom!Bluestreak with the twins

     ~~

 

     It had surprised Bluestreak how quickly Sunstreaker had broken. He had thought the golden frontliner would resist every given command but by the end of the first session, Sunstreaker had been behaving beautifully. He’d been eager to serve, eager to please, and so very desperate for praise. It had been a little spark-breaking actually, and Bluestreak had showered the other mech with endearments and soft touches.

 

     He’ll be trained completely in no time at all.

 

     Sideswipe, on the other hand… had been obstinate and willful. He had done what was asked of him, but he had pushed Bluestreak’s patience, waiting just a fraction longer than necessary to comply and doing so with an amused glint in his optic. He hadn’t obeyed because he wanted to serve, like Sunstreaker, but because he’d had nothing better to do. 

 

     And despite how much he had tried to hide it, it had been obvious that he had been incredibly jealous of Bluestreak’s easy command over his twin.

 

     It’s clear to Bluestreak that Sideswipe’s training will take much, much longer than Sunstreaker’s and require different tactics. Perhaps even separately from his brother’s sessions.

 

     Faced with such a challenge, Bluestreak is pretty eager to get started. 

 

~ End


	3. Snags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bluestreak comes to Ratchet for advice. And also comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for dracoqueen22's tumblr prompt of Bluestreak/Ratchet, 'conquer me'.

~~

 

     “So what did you learn today?” 

 

     Bluestreak stirred, glancing up at his partner. “Mmm, what do you mean?” 

 

     Ratchet stroked Bluestreak’s dorsal plating, gently caressing the middle of his left sensory panel. Both were limply draped over Bluestreak’s back, acting like a blanket for the two of them as Bluestreak remained happily sprawled across Ratchet’s wider chest. The light touch was soothing and Bluestreak snuggled down closer to the other mech, quite enjoying the lingering warmth of Ratchet’s overheated engine. 

 

     “You asked for advice,” Ratchet reminded him, craning his neck to meet Bluestreak’s optics. 

 

     He blinked a few times before realization dawned. “Oh! Oh, yes, I did - about Sideswipe. Well, how am I supposed to remember that after you blew my circuits so thoroughly?” 

 

     His entire sensory net was still tingling, and his hips ached pleasantly from where his legs had been bound wide apart. He could always trust Ratchet to give him a processor-melting overload when Bluestreak needed one.  

 

     Ratchet raised an orbital ridge. “You’re welcome. What did you learn?” he repeated, a hint of his ‘teacher tone’ emerging. Bluestreak automatically focused all his attention onto his mentor.   

 

     “… was I _supposed_ to learn something?” he hesitantly asked after a moment. After his rant about Sideswipe and the other mech’s constant insubordination, Ratchet had tumbled him into the berth without answer. Or at least a verbal one. Was Bluestreak just supposed to frag Sideswipe insensate?

 

     “Why do you still come to me?” Ratchet questioned, grinning wryly. “We’re not about to bond to one another, and you have several ongoing, fulfilling relationships in the lifestyle. So why do you still visit me from time to time?” 

 

     Bluestreak thought about it for several seconds before answering. “Because… even if they wanted to top, I don’t feel comfortable giving them that control. You, I trust to take care of me when I need that itch scratched.” 

 

     Ratchet’s orbital ridge rose up even further. He was obvious trying to make a statement here, but Bluestreak was missing it. Probably because his processor was still dribbling out of his audials. 

 

     Ratchet snorted, obviously realizing that. “I apparently did too good a job on you. My point is that you and Sideswipe are very much alike. He’s a very… forceful… personality, and he doesn’t trust easily.”

 

     “He doesn’t trust me?” Bluestreaker repeated, rearing up in horror.  _Everything_ was about trust.

 

     Ratchet reached out and gently tugged Bluestreak back down. “He trusts you; enough to let you do things to him. And more importantly, to his brother. But not enough to give himself over freely, am I right? Not the way Sunstreaker does.”

 

     “I… yes. You’re right, Sideswipe always holds back,” Bluestreaker replied, worrying his bottom lip, gaze unfocused as he stared at the wall. “Trust only extends so far in every relationship,” he said, speaking aloud what his processor was finally realizing. 

 

     “Mmm. Trust and control,” Ratchet mused. “He may eventually reach that level of comfort with you, just like you have with me. But he also may  _never_  get there and that’s all right too. You have to accept that possibility. And maybe think about training him differently. The way I trained you.”

 

     Bluestreak looked up at Ratchet, astonished. “Primus! How did I not see that!?”

 

     “Probably because you’re dealing with both of them at once. It’s easy to forget that they are very different mechs, despite sharing a spark,” Ratchet explained. 

 

     “Training Sideswipe as a dominant instead of a submissive…” Bluestreak mused. “How would I even go about that while both of them are in session?”

 

     The touch on Bluestreak’s sensory panel firmed, focusing in on the hypersensitive hinge, and Bluestreak shivered in response. 

 

     “I have a few ideas. Here. Let me show you…”

~ End


	4. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bluestreak implements some of Ratchet's advice

            ~~   

 

                “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you,” Bluestreak questioned, pausing and tilting his head to the side.

 

                “Ff.. fffour….teen,” Sunstreaker gasped out, trembling in place *where he stood.

 

                “Hm, yes. Good. Only six more.”

 

                Bluestreak raised his hand, optics nonchalantly sliding over to where Sideswipe knelt on the ground, watching. The red twin caught Bluestreak’s gaze, holding it for a spark beat before dropping his helm to look at the floor.  As he should have been doing this entire time.

 

                Well. Good as time as any.

 

                “Sideswipe. Come here,” Bluestreak instructed briskly, dropping his arm.

 

                Sideswipe’s head shot up, a look of surprise crossing his faceplates before mulishness crept in. With a huff, he pushed himself to his feet, moving smoothly despite his arms being bound behind his back. He shuffled a few steps closer, raising his chin and staring at Bluestreak.

 

                “What?”

 

                Bluestreak narrowed his optics at the impertinence, but merely motioned for Sideswipe to spin. He did so with a small optic roll, startling when Bluestreak took hold of the stasis cuffs and opened them. He tossed them onto the nearby berth.

 

                “Turn around.”

 

                Sideswipe obeyed faster than he ever had before, no doubt curious as to why the script was changing. Curiosity turned to shock as Bluestreak offered the whip to Sideswipe.

 

                “Here. You try,” Bluestreak said.

 

                Optics wide, Sideswipe looked down at the flogger and then back up at Bluestreak. “Me?” he ventured hesitantly. “Hit Sunny?”

 

                Sunstreaker moaned softly at the words, his cooling fans kicking up a notch.

 

                Bluestreak barely spared the golden twin a glance, but noted the reaction. It wasn’t all that surprising. They had been bonded since creation and despite their differences, loved and trusted one another explicitly.

 

                He pushed the whip closer and Sideswipe absently grasped it, optics focused on the scored back of his brother. “How?” he whispered, fingers stroking reverently along the handle. “Where?”

 

                “Here,” Bluestreak instructed, pointing out a relatively unscathed portion of Sunstreaker’s lower back. “The key is to bring it down at a 45 degree angle; not horizontal or vertical. Move over here… there, good,” Bluestreak praised as he moved out of the way and Sideswipe took his place.

 

                Bluestreak inched closer, placing a hand on Sideswipe’s hip and nudging it. “Keep this foot a little forward; it will help with leaning too far and overbalancing.”

 

                “And you just… swing?” Sideswipe questioned, gently swaying the whip back and forth in experimental motions.

 

                “Yes. Try it. Just gently the first time,” Bluestreak encouraged, stroking Sideswipe’s plating. They were now only inches apart, but Sideswipe either didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t mind. Nodding excitedly, Sideswipe drew back and let the whip fall, the tip sliding against the middle of Sunstreaker’s back with a small slapping sound. It was a light blow, barely scratching Sunstreaker’s paint. It was nothing like what Bluestreak had been doing or what Sunstreaker seemed to favor. Nevertheless, he exhaled a shaky ex-vent, arching towards Sideswipe.

 

                The crimson frontliner immediately turned to Bluestreak, optics alight. “Like that, sir?”

               

                Thank Primus he was used to schooling his features, because the shock of hearing ‘sir’ from Sideswipe’s mouth in a respectful tone nearly floored Bluestreak.

 

                Score one for Ratchet.

 

                 “Very good,” Bluestreak immediately praised, gently patting the other mech’s waist. “You can try a little harder this next time.”

 

                Sideswipe grinned brightly and turned back to his brother, raising the whip once more. Then he paused, flipping the whip around in one hand and meaningfully prodded Sunstreaker’s newest wound with the flogger’s wooden handle. “What’s the count, Sunstreaker?” Sideswipe inquired silkily.

 

                “Ffii… fffteen, sir,” Sunstreaker replied, struggling to get the words out amid his shivers.

 

                Bluestreak was still carefully watching Sideswipe, so he witnessed the squaring of Sideswipe’s shoulders at the honorific, the way his optics narrowed and darkened with intent.

 

                 Ugh. Bluestreak hated how Ratchet was always _right._

 

 _~_ End

 

 

 


End file.
